


Veins

by Metallic_Sweet



Series: Body [3]
Category: Tokyo Ghoul
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Family Dynamics, Fashion & Couture, Flowers, Food Issues, Gen, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Moral Ambiguity, Poetry, Power Dynamics, Wakes & Funerals
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-28
Updated: 2015-03-28
Packaged: 2018-03-20 02:41:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3633663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Metallic_Sweet/pseuds/Metallic_Sweet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Crocodile, crocodile, who will cry tears for you?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Veins

**0.**

Tsukiyama is frowning.

It surprises Hinami. She's never seen Tsukiyama without a pleasant or at least placid expression on his face. He hasn't heard her enter the living room either, which is also unusual. He's completely engrossed in the stack of stapled paper in his hands. Hinami lingers in the doorway to her bedroom, tilting her head. There's a lot of small print. He's holding a highlighter.

"Tsukiyama-san?"

He blinks, looks to her. For a moment, he looks taken aback before his expression shifts into a light, bright smile. It doesn't reach his eyes.

" _Bonsoir, mademoiselle_ ," he says, just as light as his smile. "You're up late."

Hinami, as if on cue, yawns. She crosses the room, looking at the papers in his hands. It's a bunch of columns filled with numbers. When she looks up at him, Tsukiyama's head is tilted slightly as he looks at her. It's at the same angle as the highlighter in his hand.

"What are you doing?"

"Oh," Tsukiyama says, and he looks down again at the papers; the highlighter shifts minimally, absently between his fingers. "Accounting."

He doesn't sounds particularly enthused. Hinami takes a couple steps closer. There's a couple of small, spiral-bound books next to him on the couch. Both are open. There's a lot of little bright plastic tags sticking out from various pages of the books. She recognises his handwriting in the margins of both of them.

"What for?"

Tsukiyama shifts, sitting up straighter with a deep breath. He arches from his lower back, a couple of vertebrae cracking audibly. He breathes out while bringing the highlight up, using the cap atop the pen to push his fringe back out of his eyes. The latter motion is utterly fluid. It's possibly the most natural motion she's ever seen him make.

"I have a final on Wednesday," he says, putting the papers on his lap and rubbing under his left eye; his smile shifts into something more sincere. "I must admit: this sort of thing makes my head hurt."

Hinami smiles back. Tsukiyama shifts his knees so that she can walk between him and the coffee table. She sits down on the free cushion on the couch, careful not to disturb his textbooks. Even with just her cursory glance, she can tell that she wouldn't be able to read the majority of the kanji there. Something other than that does catch her eye, though. Hinami leans forward, squinting at the margins. She looks up at Tsukiyama, who gazes back. He looks surprised again, thrown by her interest.

"Your handwriting is really small."

Tsukiyama laughs. It's not the theatrical laugh she's used to hearing or the subdued titter he occasionally makes when he's making fun of someone. It's bright and light and soft, and Tsukiyama looks a little astonished to hear it himself. His eyes shift away briefly as does the hand holding the highlighter. He's embarrassed, although Hinami doesn't understand why.

"It -" he starts to say before laughing again, looking down at the papers in his lap. "It is, isn't it?"

Hinami tucks her legs up on the couch. Tsukiyama brings the highlighter to the paper, highlighting several numbers in a row. He's definitely embarrassed. Hinami doesn't know why, but -

"It's cute."

She hadn't meant to say that aloud. Tsukiyama's head snaps up. He looks at her. His expression is intense, wide-eyed and focused. Hinami sits back a bit, her heart rate speeding up. It makes her blush. But then Tsukiyama blinks and the intensity decreases. He smiles again, and it isn't fake. It's both apologetic and a little self-conscious. She understands fully that he's deliberately letting her see the latter. He knows he'd made her uncomfortable.

"I think so, too," he says, cheerful on the surface but something else underneath. "Tiny things are very cute."

 

**i.**

The Tsukiyama estate is made up of five houses. There is the main house, which sits at the centre of the sprawling property, and there are four guest houses, two to the south-east and two to the north west. The two that are south-east have a view of the koi pond and Mount Takao. The two that are north-west are bordered by the garden and have a view of where Hachioji Castle would have stood. It is an extraordinary property.

Hinami walks the path from the main house to the northwest guest houses. She holds a basket in hand. Fresh croissants, butter, jam, and imported pâté from France. It smells like sewage to Hinami, but she knows that the guests still here from the funeral service will want it. One of them is already up, sitting out on the bench closest to the left guest house. The one who did the talking yesterday. Washuu Yoshitoki, son of the head of the CCG, Tsuneyoshi. He looks up as Hinami deliberately steps a bit heavier on the stone path.

"Good morning, Washuu-san."

He smiles as he blinks at her. "Good morning -" he starts before faltering.

Hinami shifts her hold on the basket to offer it to him. She inclines her head.

"Please," she says, "call me Hinami."

He stands and takes the basket with a bow that meets her. "Thank you, Hinami-san," he says, straightening back up as she does. "The Tsukiyama hospitality never ceases to amaze me."

Hinami inclines her head slightly, demurely. She does not smile. Washuu doesn't seem surprised. She wonders how often he's visited this estate and how well he knows Shuu. At the same time, she is assured. He's completely fooled.

"Please do not hesitate to ask for anything you may need."

 

**ii.**

She returns to the main house. Someone is being sick. Hinami bites her lip. Follows the sound. She finds Kanae standing in the doorway to the master bedroom's bath, chewing his thumbnail. Kanae grimaces at her.

"Where's Matsumae?"

Kanae takes his thumb out of his mouth. Licks his lips. They're chapped. He obviously doesn't know. The other breakfast basket was gone, so Hinami can only guess that Matsumae went to take it to the south guest houses. Inside the bathroom, Shuu coughs and mutters something in a romance language that is probably very unromantic.

Hinami clenches her hands. Shuu had been doing better. He hasn't been able to hold down more than a small cup of blood or a few bits of bone marrow or liver at a time, but what he could hold down had at least become regular. In the past month and a half, since they'd moved back, he'd regained a little colour. His eyes aren't quite so sunken and dull. He'd been well enough to put together the funeral, and that had given them the confidence to open the estate to mourners. This regression -

That Sasaki Haise -

Hinami clenches her hands so tightly she feels her nails bend into her flesh. She forces herself to breath out, to ease her fingers. Next to her, Kanae hisses his breath out through his teeth.

"Dove."

He's openly angry. Hinami can't help but agree with Kanae. There's a whole mixture of emotions she has since that Sasaki Haise walked into the reception room, but anger is one of the most prominent. Perhaps it even borders on rage. He looks and smells like Kaneki, but when he looked at them, he was obviously seeing them for the first time. He listened and smiled and smelled the same but everything else was wrong. For all intents and purposes, he's -

The toilet flushes. Kanae lifts his hand to the door. Pushes it open. Shuu is getting back to his feet, a clump of tissues against his mouth. He coughs. The colour to his cheeks makes the rest of his countence look washed out and grey. He wipes his mouth and dumps the tissues in the bin between the toilet and the bath. Kanae breathes in through his teeth.

"Tsukiyama-sama -"

A short shake of the head. It makes his hair fall over his face. Shuu doesn't brush it away. He shuts his eyes and breathes out.

"Help me get dressed."

Kanae has already set out clothing. It's another funeral suit, the style as yesterday's, but there are new cuff links. Yesterday's was engraved with the mon of the Tsukiyama house, the arched moon over a mountain peak. Today's feature Shuu's maternal line, which uses a nine hinomaru mon. Shuu takes after his mother in complexion and colouring. Hinami can tell that this is some sort of power play. 

There is a vanity in Shuu's bedroom. It faces east with a view of the pond and weeping willows. Shuu, now dressed, sits. Kanae leaves, probably to get a glass of blood. Hinami takes a hold of Shuu's hair, tucking it back behind his ears. She picks up one of the brushes, the detangler with the curved handle. Shuu's hair is both his most aesthetically pleasing feature and the bane of Hinami's existence. It has to be brushed in sections, and Shuu refuses to sleep with it bound, so he wakes up with tangles from tossing and turning if he sleeps at all. 

"Little princess."

Hinami looks up. Meets Shuu's gaze in the mirror. She knows what he's asking. She resists the urge to clench her jaw and teeth.

"It's definitely him."

Shuu breathes out. He looks down at the neatly organised bottles of perfume and cologne on the vanity top. Some of the bottles Hinami has never seen in catalogues or stores. There's several foundation powders and three different liquid concealers. There's also a small, old-fashioned tin of talcum powder that sits to the right of the curved mirror that no one ever touches. Shuu is staring at it.

Hinami breathes evenly. Brushes out his hair. Shuu lifts his hand and picks up the leftmost tube of concealer. He unscrews the cap. There's a deliberate footfall in the doorway. Kanae has come back with blood. It smells fainter than fresh blood should. He's diluted it. Hinami understands the necessity, but -

"What a waste," Shuu says.

Kanae grimaces, but Shuu isn't protesting. Hinami shifts enough so that Kanae can come close enough to hold the glass while Shuu drinks. She keeps her eyes on the brush and hair; both Shuu and Kanae smell distinctly uncomfortable. 

It's not that Shuu can't do these things for himself. Physically, he's more than capable. Even as ill as he is, he's still the strongest out of everyone in the household. Not because of raw physical strength, which is Hinami, but because he has the most experience. When it comes to the necessities of being a ghoul and his role as Tsukiyama, Shuu is extraordinarily dependable. 

It's that Shuu _can't_ do this himself. He can't take care of himself because there's a part of him that simply won't allow it. It's exponentially more difficult for Shuu to put on a sock than to do the multiple accounts for the family business or the case reports for his law degree. Hinami doesn't know why this is, but it is what it is. She can't fault anyone for it because if she starts, then they're all at fault.

Kanae draws back. The cup is empty. He holds it, a little awkwardly, looking in the mirror. It makes Hinami look, too. Shuu looks at them both in the glass. They're all so close that they fit in the frame. Shuu's lips have a little colour to them from the blood. A small, real smile tilts his lips upwards, lighting his eyes. It makes Kanae smile, too, with his teeth as he is prone to.

Hinami wishes that she could take a picture.

 

**iii.**

There are voices.

"Sorry!" and it is too bright, too young, too much of the past. "I didn't mean to disturb you."

Hinami stands in the shadow of the window. She cannot see the bridge over the pond very well, but she can hear and smell. Kanae is down by the front gate bidding goodbye to the Ichinose family, who stayed in the south houses. Hinami is the most equip to keep watch over Shuu with Doves around.

"No need to apologise," and Shuu's voice might sound languid but Hinami knows it's very alive. "I am only feeding the fish."

He's doing that on purpose. There had been the business with the Ichinose in the late morning, who are also ghouls, so Shuu had to be both Tsukiyama and the Gourmet with them. Kanae sat in on that while Matsumae attended to lunch for the Doves. Since Matsumae had had to join the Doves for food and drink, she has the afternoon off while Hinami takes watch.

She hears Shuu laugh, soft and sincere. "You're surprised."

An answering, embarrassed laugh. "Well, yes," and it sounds so much like _that_ person Hinami clenches her jaw. "I mean -"

"I find it very relaxing," Shuu says, and even Hinami can't tell if he's telling the truth or not; Shuu has very little opinion about animals.

She can imagine it. Shuu is likely sitting on the bridge. She hopes he's sitting properly rather than with his legs dangling through the divides of the railing. If it's the latter, Hinami hopes he hasn't taken off his shoes because he won't put them back on, and she would much rather the new leather be ruined by fish, fish food, and water than have to deal with Shuu wandering around shoeless. A part of Hinami sighs and wonders how this is her life.

"Really?" the Dove asks, and he sounds more interested than disbelieving.

There's a soft rattling. The canister of fish food pellets. Shuu must have lifted it.

"There's a poem," he says as the Dove steps onto the wooden bridge. "The passing of spring / The birds weep and in the eyes / Of fish there are tears."

The Dove stops. "Basho?"

The tin passes hands, the cover rattling slightly. "Yes."

Hinami slides down to sit under the window. She places her hand over her mouth. The air feels permeable. They used to talk like this on the good days in _that_ place in what seems so long ago.

There's a short silence. She can smell the pellets hitting the water. The sound of the heel of a well-worn shoe shifting on the wood. The Doves is starting to relax. But then Shuu coughs several times, the sound muffled halfway through as he must have put a hand up to cover his mouth. 

"Are you -"

Shuu coughs a couple times more before he gets himself back under control. He clears his throat. 

"It's alright," he says, and it's a really obvious lie; Hinami can hear he's a bit breathless.

"Ah -" and Shuu must be getting up because the Dove shifts, purposeful, "you've gone really pale. Should I get someone?"

"No," Shuu says, and she can hear him rising with the word. "I've let myself get a bit cold."

Hinami slides away from the window before standing up. She passes into the hallway. She smooths out the front of her obi. By the time she gets to the gekkan, Shuu is already there, taking off his soaked shoes. The Dove is with him, looking worried. That expression on that face: it makes her feel like she's hallucinating. She focuses on Shuu instead, who really has gone very pale, letting some of her concern show because that's much easier than acknowledging the way the world feels topsy-turvy.

Shuu tries to smile at her, but it's strained, so he stops. "Hinami-chan, please see if the shoes are salvageable."

Hinami inclines her head. Shuu passes her into the house as she picks up the shoes. When she straightens, the Dove is still there, observing her with a slightly pinched look. Hinami forces herself to incline her head. Forces herself to cling to formality.

"I apologise for any inconvenience."

The Dove smiles. The only scent she can get off of him is concern. He's trying so hard to look pleasant even so. It's so much like -

"I hope Tsukiyama-sama feels better soon. I know that we're supposed to meet in the afternoon, but if he's not..."

The Dove trails off, suddenly awkward. He must have just realised that he doesn't have the authority to alter meeting times. Hinami could tell from their meeting yesterday that he's the lowest ranked. She pulls deep within herself to find a smile. It's a little weak, but that can't be helped.

"Tsukiyama-sama understands the importance of the matter," she says, trying to think of what Matsumae would likely say. "He is a bit young, but he is very reliable."

The Dove's eyebrows furrow slightly. Hinami guesses that Matsumae has already said something similar. Hinami bows to indicate her leave, and the Dove hurries to do so as well, awkward and terribly sincere. He smiles, self-consciously.

It makes Hinami want to scream.

 

**0.**

It's mid-May when a storm comes through. It grounds everyone to the apartment. On the third day, Tsukiyama comes by to replenish their food. He greets them pleasantly, but there's an air of distraction about him that even Kaneki notices. 

"- nothing to be concerned with."

They haven't shut the basement door, so they must not have finished descending the stairs. Hinami tilts her head, listening. Outside, the wind howls, throwing rain against the west side of the house.

"We can't train properly if you're distracted," Kaneki says, and it's a serious tone rather than the vague irritation he usually shows Tsukiyama. "What is it?"

Unusually, Tsukiyama doesn't respond immediately. When he does, the first couple words come out breathy in a long sigh.

"My father," he says, "died."

There's a beat. "I'm so sorry," Kaneki says, and he sounds like how he used to: emotionally in tune and sincere.

Tsukiyama makes a noise. "Don't," he says. 

There's an edge to his tone, one that Hinami has only heard a few times when he gets irritated with Ichimi, Jiro, and Sante. There's footsteps. The sound of the basement door closing. Hinami looks up from her book at the stairwell. She wonders for a long moment if she should go down, if she should try to distract them. But then there's the faint sound of a body falling, and she knows that disturbing them now would be counter-productive.

It's much later when Hinami comes out of her room after taking a nap to find Tsukiyama in the kitchen. He has his shirtsleeves rolled up and is wearing the apron no one but he and Hinami ever use. He's in the process of preparing ribs. He looks up at her, the wide cleaver still in hand.

"Hinami-chan," he says, smiling. "Are you hungry? I'm just making a snack before heading home."

Hinami crosses the living room to stand on the tile of the kitchen floor. "I heard," she says, "you and Kaneki-niichan talking."

Tsukiyama's smile falters. "Oh," he says and then stands there, at a loss for words.

It's the first time he hasn't had something to say, even when surprised. Hinami crosses the tile to sit down on one of the counter stools. She hooks her ankles around the legs, resting her hands on the fabric of her skirt between her legs. It's not a ladylike pose. It's rather childish.

"My father died, too."

Something flickers in Tsukiyama eyes. He looks down. Adjusts his hold on the cleaver before setting it to the side of the chopping board. He looks a little bit like the time she called his handwriting cute. Like he's not used to having nice things said to him. 

Hinami swallows. "I was," she admits, "really sad."

Tsukiyama doesn't say anything. He doesn't have to. He's staring at the chopping board, between the cleaver and the partially prepared ribs. The scent of fresh blood wafts. She can only guess that he's bitten his tongue. The wind howls outside.

They stay like that for a long time.

 

**iv.**

Shuu raises his fingers to his lips. They are straight and held together, the hand tilted on the wrist at a right angle. His elbow brushes his unbound hair, tucking it against his chest. It is a dainty, very gentle gesture. 

"Oh," he says, very soft and with wide, surprised eyes.

The Dove that is Sasaki Haise kneels in the middle of the reception room. The other Doves sit behind him. The mismatched gaze remains downcast, his jaw clenched. His hands are fists upon his knees. This is a display. 

"It is the newest development of our research and development division," Washuu says. "It is possible to transplant some organs of a ghoul into a human to create hybrids. We've been calling them Quinx."

Hinami's heart feels like it's about escape her chest. She can't look at this. She keeps her face forward but her attention on Shuu because Shuu is easier than looking at -

"Ah," Shuu says, his hand slipping downward, fingers splaying over the edge of the front of his shirt's collar, "I can see why Grandfather was so interested."

Washuu smiles a little. He understands that Shuu is referring to Asahi's interest in finding a way to prolong life. It's terrifying. Hinami clenches the muscles in her thighs and hopes that no one notices the small shift. She doesn't dare try and look at Kanae.

"The process is still in the early stages. If it wasn't for the support of your family, we wouldn't have nearly half of the understanding of how ghouls could benefit humanity as we do now."

Shuu laughs, light and amused. His hand catches in his hair, soothing it from his shoulder to the ends over his lap. Hinami doesn't miss how Marude and Mado both watch the motion, their training as Doves utterly obvious. Shuu twists a lock of hair around his forefinger, smiling easily. It's very pretty.

"Don't be so modest, Washuu-san," he says, and real amusement lights up his eyes. "I'm sure you remember that time Matsuri-kun and I fell into the pond just before dinner."

Washuu bursts out laughing. It makes the hair on the back of Hinami's neck stand on end. She doesn't miss how all the Doves turn their attention to Washuu, obviously shocked by his reaction and this new detail about their colleague. It's an excellent diversion. Shuu smiles, close-lipped and polite but the light in his eyes dancing.

"I'm surprised you remember that!" Washuu chuckles. "You couldn't have been older than five."

Hinami knows what Matsuri became, what he's done. She wants to look at Kanae, but she doesn't dare. It is incredibly difficult for Kanae to keep his emotions in check, and Matsuri's time in Germany -

"Mother fished us out," Shuu murmurs, soft, sad, and very, very sweet. "I have to admit I am a bit sentimental over that memory."

Washuu inclines his head, his expression grave. "I'm sure you're tired of hearing it," he says, soft as well; he is being sincere, "but you look very much like Sumire-san."

Shuu smiles, although none of the sadness from before dissipates. "I am gratified to hear it all the same," he says.

But then his expression closes. The remoteness of his position settles back over him. It's like all the warmth is chased from the room. Washuu straightens, and Hinami feels how the Doves all tense. 

"But I've digressed," Shuu says, and it's like stone is speaking instead of a living thing. "My late grandfather and I spoke on the subject of ghoul to human transplants was before I left for Tokyo. Please confirm my memory: Sasaki Haise was the only successful specimen at the time, but there were several volunteers who were undergoing preliminary surgery?"

Hinami's stomach rolls and she doesn't hear anything else for a while. Shuu had known? He was aware that there was a possibility that Kaneki was alive? How long? He must have suspected. He had to have. He loved Kaneki, too. Then why -

"That's unfortunate," Shuu says.

There's been a shift in his even, cold tone. It sounds bland now, disapproving. Washuu is nodding, his expression even graver. It makes him look middle-aged. Hinami makes the mistake of looking at the Dove still sitting on display in the middle of the room. The mismatched gaze is pained and far, far away.

"I don't imagine that the operation is a very popular option," Shuu says, and he doesn't smile. "With such a low success rate: it is extraordinarily costly. And there is no guarrentee from what you are saying that any of the current Quinxes will be particularly good agents. I will be blunt: I am not terribly impressed."

The Doves all stiffen. Mado and Marude smell strongly of offence. The Dove in the centre of the room's scent screams of alarm. Washuu is not surprised, but his scent wars between frustration, dismay, and anger.

"Tsukiyama-sama -"

Shuu raises his hand. It is not a quick motion. He does not hold his hand straight. Washuu falls silent.

"I do not mean to cause offence," Shuu says, and his tone is still the same: colder than ice and made of stone. "But I am not my Grandfather nor my Grandmother. I do not have the same ideals as they did. You needn't worry. I will honour the contract that was established two years ago. I simply ask that you understand my opinion." 

"Which is?"

Mismatched eyes. He's speaking out of turn, but if anyone could, it would be him. Shuu smiles. Outside, the sun shines. There is no warmth in the house. 

"I find," Shuu says, "such a high loss of life to be rather wasteful."

 

**v.**

It is past six when they finally finish their meeting. Hinami bows her leave and goes to her room to grab her shoes and a small pair of pruning sheers and gardening gloves before heading out to the stone garden. She knows this is selfish, but she is angry. She needs to get her emotions back under control before confronting Shuu about -

Hinami steps off the path. Breathes in deep and swallows. No, she cannot think about it. Not yet. There are Doves here, and she is too aware of herself and all that entails. She crosses over to the one of the rose bushes. Kneels down in front of it. She hopes that Kanae is with Shuu or has been able to escape somewhere, too.

The worst thing, Hinami thinks as she puts on the gardening gloves, is that even if Shuu knew for certain it was Kaneki, he wouldn't have been able to do anything about it. He might have had his guesses and he may have had his hopes, but they wouldn't have mattered. The Shuu of two and a half years ago who took Hinami in: he was in no position to negotiate anything with Asahi and Kamiko. He'd already asked them a huge favour to find HInami a place in the household. 

By the time the contract was drawn up regarding the Quinx programme and the Dove Sasaki Haise, Shuu would have been in the worst of his illness. It was the period during which Hinami got used to rotating with Matsumae and Kanae on a bizarre sort of twenty-four hour suicide watch that nobody ever acknowledged. None of them would have been mentally able to put up with more than they already had been. If Shuu had known -

There's a step. Hinami looks over her shoulder. The female Dove has one foot on the path, one on the stones. She blinks. Hinami forces herself to blink. Forces away her instincts. Her blood screams.

"I'm sorry," Mado says, smiling slightly. "Did I surprise you?"

Hinami breathes out. Lets her blood colour her cheeks. She lowers her gloved hands and the pruning sheers to her lap. She is glad for the thick layers of her kimono to hide how hard the muscles of her legs are clenched to prevent her from moving.

"Yes."

Mado stands there. The silence stretches just enough for it to become uncomfortable. It isn't uncomfortable for Hinami, who has gotten used to very long silences. Mado, though, shifts. She smiles a little wider, showing her teeth. Humans think it makes them look more friendly.

"I couldn't help but notice," she says, "you were upset by the discussion earlier." 

Hinami looks away. She looks at the leaves and small twigs that she has gathered on the cloth next to her. It's the cloth that Matsumae attempted to teach her embroidery on. The best that Hinami had the patience for was repetitive stitches for borders. It had made Matsumae as disappointed as Hinami had ever seen her.

"I was," Hinami murmurs, very aware that Mado is giving her full attention.

She hears Mado breathe in, probably to say something else, but there's a footfall on the pathway. Heel, toe. It's Kanae. Hinami looks to him at the same time as Mado. Kanae's expression is cold and disdainful, chin slightly raised like he smells something stink. He doesn't even look at Mado, making it abundantly clear his distaste is for her. It's reassuring normal for him.

"Hinami," he says, "Bunko-san has arrived. She's asking for you."

Hinami pulls off her gloves. "I didn't know Bunko-san was coming."

Kanae tsks. "Troublesome," he says, which is the only word he seems to be able to say when he has to consciously not speak German. 

Mado is frowning at him. Hinami is glad for it. Kanae is being himself in such a way that makes him automatically dislikeable. It is a good way to distract people without arousing any particular suspicions. Hinami fold up the cloth with the bush clippings. She stands up, holding her gloves, sheers, and folded cloth in her hands.

"Please excuse me, Mado-san. I must attend to this."

She puts her geta back on and steps back onto the path. Mado inclines her head, eyebrows slightly furrowed. Kanae makes a disapproving noise again, moving to follow. Mado remains, watching them leave from the rock garden. Hinami can see Matsumae walking back from the northern guest houses, her gaze on Mado. Hinami knows she can trust Matsumae to collect her and manage the Doves for their evening meal. Kanae and Hinami walk back to the main house together, leaving their shoes in the gekkan. They enter the main hallway before Kanae looks to her, his expression tight.

"What was she asking you?"

Hinami purses her lips. "I think," she murmurs, very lowly because her heart is just beginning to calm, "she wanted my opinion about Sasaki-san."

"Those two," Kanae says, just as softly as they pass into the private living quarters of the house, "were there for Raccoon."

Hinami nods. Kanae might not have the same level of hearing that she does, but his eyesight is exceptional. Sasaki's hair is unmistakable and Mado's hairstyle and stature are unique enough. She wonders what they had thought of that. If they thought anything at all.

They've reached at Shuu's rooms. It's very quiet. Hinami raises her hand, glancing at Kanae. Kanae's brows are slightly furrowed. Hinami turns back and pushes open the door. 

Shuu is sitting at the vanity, one of the large account ledgers open on his lap. Bunko is sitting on the bench beneath the window. For a full moment, Hinami doesn't recognise her. Bunko is dressed in a mourning kimono, the colours still her monochromatic, but that is the only normal thing about the picture. Her hair is done, bound and pinned with a hint of silver. Her face is cleanly made up, and she sits properly. She doesn't smile. It's the first time Hinami has seen Bunko look her station. It makes her look cold, cruel, and unfriendly.

Shuu looks up from the ledger. His eyes are dull, what little colour ever makes it into his skin washed completely out.

"Hinami, Kanae, please sit."

There aren't any other chairs. They both end up sitting on the end of Shuu's bed. Hinami tries very hard not to stare at Bunko. Bunko watches them, expression bland and impassive, before her gaze focuses. It's on Kanae. At the vanity, Shuu breathes in.

"Two caveats," Shuu says, and he sounds tired. "One: you do not have to agree to this."

Bunko sighs. It doesn't seem to be in disagreement. It is simply a gust of breath, releasing tension.

"Two," Shuu continues, and he looks at Kanae, too. "No matter what happens, you have the protection of this Tsukiyama."

Hinami's stomach clenches. She looks at Kanae. Kanae's expression is open terror. Hinami wishes she hadn't looked.

"I," Shuu says, "cannot marry Bunko. It would cause both of our houses to merge, and that would be too suspicious under current circumstances."

Bunko inclines her head, her posture shifting into something more slouched, more her. "I am the current head of the Minamoto house," she explains, her gaze shifting briefly to Hinami. "We are the other major funder of the CCG's research and development."

"Kanae," Shuu says.

Hinami knows with a sudden flash of absolute clarity what is coming. Kanae does, too. He looks like the world is shattering. It breaks Hinami's heart. She is so, so sorry.

"I would like you to consider marrying into the Minamoto family."

 

**vi.**

Hinami's parents married for love.

They'd met in elementary school. Things were a little different then. It was harder for the government to track ghouls. Technology had been something in the future, still so much science fiction. Papers were papers and therefore were easier to forge. So, unlike Hinami who has only passed by school buildings and playgrounds, her parents had been enrolled in kindergarten. They were family friends and often went home for lunch together. Back then, that was normal. No one batted an eye. Things were different then, simpler in a strange and now utterly foreign way.

Hinami looks out the window. Kanae and Bunko are on the bridge over the pond. Kanae stands with his hands at his side. He is looking down into the pond. Bunko stands straight and remote. Her obi is tied in a very understated taiko musubi. The only colour is Kanae's hair.

Hinami blinks. The image blurs.

"Why?"

There's a shifting of sheets and blankets. Shuu is lying down. Since he hasn't been able to eat anything substantial for the past couple of days and barely anything before that, he's cold and gets dizzy easily. She turns to find him looking at her, curled in the blankets and on his side.

"Staying here," Shuu says, low and worn, "isn't good for him. He's too much like me."

That's true. Hinami knows it. The longer Kanae is around Shuu, the more obsessed he becomes with him and the more he confuses that obsession with love. She looks back out the window. Bunko has a hand on Kanae's shoulder. He's not looking at her, but neither is she. Hinami knows the decision has already been made. Kanae could never deny Shuu anything. Bunko is old-fashioned and has everything to gain from this. Minamoto Bunko is equal to Tsukiyama Shuu. Kanae will no longer have to use a false name. Ghouls nowadays rarely marry for love. If nothing else, at least Hinami can trust Bunko to treat Kanae with respect. 

Hinami takes a deep breath. Lets it out. When she looks back to Shuu, he's still watching her, his eyes aware and focused.

"Sasaki Haise."

Shuu blinks. It's like opening the door on an abyss. The despair there is aged and deep and possibly irreparable.

"I knew."

Hinami crosses the room. She climbs onto Shuu's bed. It creases her obi and sets the layers of her kimono into disarray. She leans against the lump that Shuu has made of himself in the sheets and blankets. Shuu breathes out. He closes his eyes.

"So he's dead."

Shuu shifts. He reaches out blindly. Hinami catches his hand. Twists her own to curl their fingers together. She squeezes. He tightens his hold. Clinging.

"Yes."

Hinami lies down. The blankets are soft. The bed is very wide. 

She can't feel anything.

It's cold.

 

**0.**

She caught them kissing twice.

The first time, it was mid-June. She had thought it was too quiet and had been afraid she'd been left alone in the house. She had only pushed open her bedroom door enough to peer out into the living room. 

Tsukiyama was sitting on the couch. So was Kaneki, but the angle they were at was odd. Too close. It had taken her a moment to realise what they were doing. Not because she was unfamiliar with it but because she had only really seen it on television and between her parents. That sort of thing was different. She had never seen it in this manner.

Kaneki was kissing. She could tell by the angle, by the way the muscles in his neck and jaw were moving. Tsukiyama was still. Not pulling away but there was a stiffness. It was like looking a body stuck in between motion.

Kaneki reached up. Hooked his hand around the back of Tsukiyama's skull. Threaded his fingers into his hair. Hinami watched as the stiffness bled out. Tsukiyama sighed. His right hand lifted, resting on Kaneki's left shoulder. Hinami smelt something, heady and coiling, shift in the air.

She took a step back and shut her door.

 

**vii.**

Matsumae wakes her.

"Hinami," she says from the foot of the bed, "these are not your quarters."

Hinami slides off the bed. Matsumae is angry. It doesn't show on her face, but it screams in her scent. There's a slightly sour edge to her scent that indicates she's recently thrown up. It must be just after dinner.

"Matsumae."

Hinami turns around. Shuu is in the process of sitting up. His dress shirt is badly wrinkled, and his hair is tangle again. There's a strange fire in his eyes. 

"Calm down," he says.

Hinami realises belated that Matsumae's kakugan are showing. A long moment passes. It takes forever for Matsumae to blink, her eyes turning back to their dull, dark brown. Shuu observes her for a moment longer before he pushes back the covers. He kneels on his bed, hands braced against the mattress. 

"Hinami," Shuu says, "close the drapes."

Hinami cross the room to the windows. She reaches up and unties the fabric. She pulls the heavy curtains shut. The room plunges into near pitch darkness. 

"Tsukiyama-sama -"

There's a ripping sound. Hinami stays facing the drapes. She doesn't want to see this. She doesn't dare put her hands over her ears.

"I took her in," Shuu says. "She is equal in this household."

Matsumae breathes in. "Yes," she says, "I understand."

Footsteps. Matsumae's. They're always so even. The sound of the door opening. Closing. The footsteps move down the hall.

Hinami turns around. She crosses the room to the vanity. Turns on the strip light. It throws the room into a dim glow and tall shadows. She turns to the bed. Shuu is sitting properly, his hands folded neatly in his lap. His kagune arches over his shoulder, forming a ribbon that reaches past the foot of the bed. Shuu isn't looking at her. His gaze is on his hands. 

"Flower man?"

He continues staring at his hands. His kagune twists, pointlessly, absently. For a horrible moment, she thinks he's about to go away again. But then Shuu looks up. He begins to withdraw his kagune. He's extremely pale. But he's still here.

"Is this," he asks, slow, soft, and very, very honest, "what you want?"

It's Hinami's turn to look down. Her kimono is rumpled and out of alignment. She tucks her fingers on the edges of her sleeves.

"No," she says, because she has never had to lie to Shuu. "It is a naïve wish, but I want everyone to be happy."

Shuu laughs. Two soft puffs of air. It makes her look up. He's still looking at her. His expression is soft. Sweet. Sad.

Hinami smiles. She allows herself to laugh, too. After all this time, she finally understands.

This is what it means to love.

 

**viii.**

Father used to sing to her. Folk songs. Old songs. It's the only music she knows. 

Hinami finds Kanae down in the kitchen. It's really finding him because he's huddled up on the floor, still the suit he's worn all day. His arms around his knees and he has his back against the dishwasher. He doesn't try to hide the fact he's been sitting in the dark sobbing to himself as she gazes down at him.

"Kanae-kun?"

He makes a weak, high noise. Hinami sits down next to him. He's got a kitchen roll next to him and a clump of the rough tissue in his hands. His eyes are red. His cheeks are splotchy. Hinami feels so bad for him. 

"You don't have to say yes."

Kanae sniffs. Coughs a little on the mucus. He blows his nose, hugging his arms aroung his knees tightly. 

"It's the best option," Kanae says, his voice breaking, wobbling. "I know that."

Hinami nods. She reaches up and starts to pull out the pins from her hair. The styling wax makes it both easier and harder in some places. Kanae whimpers, tucking his head against his knees.

"All I wanted," Kanae whispers, thick and cracked and very, very resigned, "was to stay by his side."

Hinami pulls out a pin. She wonders, suddenly, if Shuu had considered matching her and Kanae. He likely had, but it would have been to the benefit of no one. Neither of them have truly legal identities, nor any assets of their own, and it would remain an issue if they had children. Plus, everything that Shuu said is true. Kanae is not growing, and he will not grow so long as he stays near Shuu constantly. Bunko can provide Kanae with a better, more secure identity, can collaborate the idea that Kanae is simply a Tsukiyama bastard. Kanae can take her name completely legally, and his origins will become even more obscured. It gives Kanae a future, and it ties the Minamoto and Tsukiyama families obvious, innocuous manner. 

Kanae coughs. A laugh escapes him. It's strained and a little harsh. He grins. It twists his face in grief, regret, and a gratefulness. It's a very sad, very mature expression.

"You have to let me do your make-up for the wedding," Kanae says, and tears streak his face, stain his shirt collar. "You're still so bad at it. I can't have my little sister looking hideous."

Hinami smiles. She reaches out. Kanae accepts her hand. He has calluses on the pads of his fingers from flower arranging. His nails are short and blunt. She wonders when they came to know each other so well.

"Make sure you wear waterproof mascara," Hinami says, "Kanae-niisan."

 

**ix.**

Hinami is just about to go to bed when she spots something out her window. A light. Shadows.

She goes to her window. There are three figures and a lit hand lantern at the bench under the willow tree. She recognises Shuu and Bunko. The third figure is Washuu. As Hinami concentrates, she can just hear their voices stop as Shuu starts coughing.

Hinami turns. She pulls on a robe over her pyjamas. She doesn't bother with socks or finding proper shoes. She hurries as quietly as possible through the hallway, back through the public rooms, outside. By the time she arrives at the bench, Shuu is sitting slumped forward, Bunko's hand on his back. She can hear him wheezing. Washuu is on one knee, expression openly concerned.

"Tsukiyama-sama," Hinami says, and both Bunko and Washuu look up at her, surprised by her presence "I thought you'd gone to bed."

Shuu starts to lift his head, but he's seized by another coughing fit. He's hooked the sleeve of his evening jacket over his left hand, like he would if it was kimono. The fact he's fully dressed means that Matsumae must have come back to his quarters either while Hinami was with Kanae or when she had already returned to her rooms. Hinami realises this must have been an arranged meeting.

"Hinami-san," Bunko says, very pointedly, "could you stay while I get some water?"

Hinami nods. Propriety-wise, she should have been sent to get water, but Bunko likely wants to put something into the water to help Shuu. Washuu's expression is worried, which is very disconcerting to see on a Dove. Hinami trades places with Bunko as Shuu begins to get back in control of his breathing. She places her hands in her lap, keeping a close eye on the shallow rise and fall of Shuu's shoulders.

Washuu's expression is tight. "Kamiko-san had mentioned that you were ill."

Shuu draws in a slow, tight breath. "Did she?" he asks, and the lack of inflection can be excused by breathlessness.

Washuu frowns a little deeper. "Yes," he says, and there's a slight moment of hesitance, his gaze flickering to Hinami and then back to Shuu. "I didn't say this earlier because everyone was there, but I think that was her interest in the Quinx programme."

Shuu convulses. Hinami raises her hands, but Shuu catches himself. His hand is over his mouth again and his eyes are shut. Washuu's hands are up, too. It's very bizarre to be mirrored by a Dove.

There are footsteps. Bunko reappears, a mug of water warm enough to give off faint steam in her hand. She holds it out to Hinami, who takes it in her right hand before reaching out to catch Shuu's hair and push it out of his face. Shuu removes his hand from his mouth. Hinami can see that the sleeve is wet. There are splotches of blood. Shuu's body is eating itself from the inside out due to malnutrition. Hinami forces herself not to react as Shuu takes the mug from her to drink.

Washuu's expression when Hinami glances back at him after assuring that Shuu is steady enough to drink on his own is one that Hinami is shocked to see she recognises. It looks like her father's expression when he would look in on her when she was very young and had caught the flu. It's pinched, sincere concern.

"I know you find the human cost distasteful," Washuu says, and Hinami is torn between horrified understanding and wanting to strike him, "but the research really will help. Not just to fight ghouls but humans in general. Kamiko-san was most interested in the possibility of isolating how the regenerative ability could be tranferred without all the drawbacks the current technology is at."

Hinami feels something close up in her. She feels nothing. Next to her, Shuu finishes the water. He hands the mug back to Bunko, who has extended her hand. It is so strange to see Bunko acting so seriously. Shuu breathes out, slow and strained, but his expression is intense. Washuu grimaces. He knows he's overstepped.

"I know well what my grandmother was interested in," Shuu says, and his voice is soft but the tone is unmistakeably hard. "The position I iterated today stands. But," and while his tone softens, his eyes remain sharp, "I appreciate your concern. I still remember when my mother was alive."

Something in Washuu goes still. Not like he's threatened, but like he's stepped and found a floorboard creaking where he didn't expect it.

"Sumire-san was a valued friend."

"Washuu-san," Shuu says, very, very soft, "I pushed Matsuri-kun into the pond because I saw two of you kissing."

Hinami freezes. Out of the corner of her eye, she sees Bunko go absolutely still. Bunko hadn't known. Washuu's eyes have gone huge. Shuu breathes in, his gaze not wavering at all. 

"I never told," he says, soft and sweet and very, very sad, "but I knew that Mother and you were having an affair until she passed away."

Washuu's gaze drops. His jaw is clenched. Shuu breathes slowly, steadily. Hinami doesn't loosen the grip she has on the fabric over his shoulder. Bunko is watching Washuu, dark eyes clear and calculating. Washuu slowly unclenches his jaw.

"I understand."

Shuu smiles. It moves that sweetness over his entire expression. Hinami, because she knows to look for it now, sees how it makes Washuu falter. She wonders how Washuu would react if he saw Shuu in furisode kimono. It makes her want to throw up.

"Thank you very much."

 

**0.**

The second time she caught them was a week after the first.

She had known they were doing something that wasn't fighting in the basement from the way it smelled. She knows she shouldn't have, but she was curious. It was something new, and she had wanted to just take a peek, like the week before. 

They were both shirtless. It was not the first time she had seen Kaneki shirtless, of course, but it was the first time she had seen Tsukiyama. His shoulders were sharp and broad, bulkier than Kaneki but leaner than Banjou. Kaneki was in his lap, knees steadied on Tsukiyama's hips to give him secure leverage into the kiss. As she shifts just slightly to see better, Kaneki reaches up and tugs lightly a fist full of Tsukiyama's hair.

A huff of breath, like a laugh. Tsukiyama drew back a little, lowering his hands to steady Kaneki's back, just over his kakuhou. 

"Bold."

"You like it."

Tsukiyama made another strange, breathy laugh. "Yeah."

They leaned into each other again, the scent deepening, like the sweltering summer air. Hinami made her way very carefully, very softly back up the stairs. She pulled the basement door almost completely shut, leaving it just cracked to avoid any chance of the sound of it shutting disturbing them. She smiled to herself, crossing the living area, going back to her room.

In that moment, locked in time, they were happy.

 

**x.**

There are things that people do for the ones they love.

Hinami looks up at the moon. The bedroom that she spent two years in, the house that she's come to think of as home: they are the mountain beneath this moon. She is not fully part of this world, ancient, remote, and unchanging, but she is no longer part of the one she left behind in Tokyo, full of the dead and memories that go staler with each passing day. 

Hinami breathes in. Closes the window. She turns to her wardrobe, to the still childishly styled kimono that are stored inside. She pulls out a light pink and white one. It's patterned with sakura blossoms. She had not, until she came to live in this house, had much opinion about sakura blossoms. After all, she had never been able to travel beyond the 20th Ward to see them bloom.

She is not that little girl. 

She knows what she wants.

 

**xi.**

There are two people sitting on the bench in front of the right guest house. Hinami adjusts her hold on the breakfast basket, breathing shallowly to make the chore look a little bit more intensive. It is heavier than yesterday as it contains a steel heat-retaining container of miso oyaku. Hinami really wonders how Matsumae cooks these things to apparent excellence when they have no sense of human taste.

"Mado-san, Sasaki-san," Hinami says as she steps off the path and they both look up at her, alert in a way that gives away their Dove nature. "Good morning."

Sasaki starts to stand before Mado reaches out. A look of understanding and slight pain flashes over his face as he sits back and lets Mado take the basket from Hinami. Mado remembers Hinami's comment from the day before and has interpreted her hesitance in answering as fear of Sasaki. That is good for what Hinami wants, even if it hurts something deep inside of her.

"Good morning, Hinami-san," Mado says, smiling at her. "Thank you very much for you hospitality." 

Hinami bows. "I hope that you slept well."

Both Mado and Sasaki nod. They both are smiling in the manner that humans tend to think makes them look encouraging. To see that expression on Sasaki's face tears at Hinami's chest in ways that thinking of her parents once did. She swallows, grabbing onto that grief to bring colour to her cheek, to make her eyes move and waver.

"Ah -"

She presses her hands flat over the fabric that covers her thighs. She thinks of sunflowers, bloodroot, roses, and sakura blossoms. Flowers fill her memories of Shuu, even when he was just Tsukiyama to her. There were no flowers before.

When she looks up, Mado and Sasaki are watching her, Dove eyes sharp and searching. She lets them.

"The discussion yesterday," Hinami says, and she rubs at the fabric of her kimono, a self-soothing motion. "Is really possible that Sasaki-san and those like him could help cure human ailments?"

"Yes."

It's Sasaki who speaks. Hinami looks up at him, allowing herself to show her surprise. She doesn't miss that Mado is watching Sasaki, too. Sasaki, though, is looking straight at her, his expression so familiar it burns.

"If what I am can help people who are sick," he says, and she can tell it's a new concept to him but one that he isn't going to soon let go of nor ever forget, "then I promise that I'll do anything to help."

Hinami stares at him. She can't say, of course, what she wants to say. Kaneki broke his promise. Kaneki left her and Shuu and everyone else. Hinami, despite how much she loves Kaneki, can never forgive him. Hinami forces herself to blink. She can feel tears starting. She bows her head low, fisting her hands in her kimono.

"I'm sorry," she whispers. "This is very improper of me."

"No, it's -" Sasaki starts.

"Sasaki," Mado murmurs.

Hinami sniffs. She begins to lift her hand to clear her eyes. A hand, rough with calluses, catches hers. Hinami starts, looking up to find Mado standing close. She's offering Hinami a handkerchief. There's a soft expression in her eyes. 

"Here."

Hinami blinks again before reaching out and taking the handkerchief. It's a cheap linen, but that doesn't matter. They're buying it. Buying the idea that she wants them to work to help Shuu recover from physical illness. If Sasaki is anything at all like Kaneki, he will not forget this. He will not give up the idea of helping. Mado knows this, and she will have to collaborate the idea, even if she doesn't buy it completely.

Hinami presses the handkerchief to her eyes. Her mascara and concealer stains it. She sniffs. Blinks. She can feel her cheeks hot with what probably reads as distress and embarrassment. She can feel her kakugan, but the two and a half years in this house have taught her impeccable self-control. She knows exactly what she looks like. She looks upset and strained.

"I'm sorry," she says again, holding the handkerchief. "I'll have this cleaned."

Mado shakes her head. She smiles, and, for the first time, it's a sincere expression. 

"It's alright. I know this is a trying time."

Hinami bows, clutching the cheap linen in her hands. "Thank you very much. Please, excuse me."

Mado and Sasaki bow as well, at the same level as her. Hinami straightens and begins to turn.

"Hinami-san!"

She pauses. Looks back. Sasaki is looking at her, expression open and intense. It's like looking into the past through a telescope. Distorted.

"It will be alright," he says, smiling sincere and wide.

Hinami blinks. Smiles back. Wide and innocent and all the things she hasn't been since Kaneki died. 

"Thank you," she says when she really means _you lied_.

 

**xii.**

The Doves leave just after their breakfast. Hinami washes her face and doesn't reapply her make-up. Kanae's right. She isn't good at make-up beyond the most basic. She doesn't need to be.

She thinks, as she watches Matsumae and Kanae escorting the Doves to the main gate, of helping Kanae dismember Kamiko. It had happened the day they moved back to the estate, and Kamiko had already been prepared for it. Asahi had been the real issue, and he had already been dead and his body dealt with four days before. She had gone with no protest, and the clean up had been minimal. Asahi's death has been called heart attack and Kamiko's a massive stroke likely brought on by grief. The healthcare papers had been forged through the hospitals that the Tsukiyama family funds. Kanae had explained that as they sorted out the body for burning deep up in the mountains.

"I'm surprised," Kanae had said, smiling with a slight curl to his lip. "You're usually such a pacifist."

Hinami cleaned off the cleaver. "I may be a pacifist," she had said, blunt and bland because they were alone together with no one to judge, "but I understand necessity."

She turns away from the window. She picks up the handkerchief that Mado gave her, still crumpled on her desk. She opens it and refolds it, tucking it into the front of her obi. She turns and makes her way out of her rooms, to the library and the master study. 

As she expected, she finds Shuu already in the study. He's sitting on the floor under the main window with a laptop and a stack of books that could very well fall on him. He's wearing a turtle-neck over a lavender sweater and grey sweatpants that possibly fit him years ago but definitely do not now. He obviously dressed himself. After several days of seeing Shuu dressed in mourning but expertly tailored suits makes the sight more than a little disheartening. Hinami thanks Kanae's foresight when they moved back from Tokyo in throwing away all of the Takeda diamond yukata. It would be too morbid even for Hinami to stand Shuu wearing his grandfather's clothes now.

"Little princess," Shuu says as she crosses the room to make the book stack less precarious, "what is in your obi?"

Hinami sets the two accounting ledgers atop of the pile onto the floor. She pulls out the handkerchief. Holds it out. Shuu looks up from his laptop. He blinks at it. 

"It's," he starts, blinking again, "dirty."

"It's Mado's."

Shuu stares at her. It's the kind of expression that on anyone else would make Hinami feel small and looked down upon. From Shuu, it's simply disbelief.

"Why?"

Hinami puts it back in her obi. She sets to work making the workspace less of a health hazard. Usually Matsumae would do this, but it's becoming clear that Hinami can't depend on Matsumae to make the best choices for Shuu.

"They need to believe you're really ill," Hinami says, soft and ungentle. "If they think that there is a way to get more money out of you, then they will never suspect what we really are."

Shuu stares at her. Hinami moves to the desk to adjust where the laptop cord is lodged underneath the rolling desk chair wheel. She hears Shuu breath out, something close to a laugh.

"Crocodile, crocodile, who will cry tears for you?"

Hinami stands up. Turns back. Shuu is smiling, his teeth just visible. Once she would have called this smile the Gourmet's, but that person is long gone. Hinami does not flinch. She lifts her lips. Smiles back.

"None but the river," she says, "when it becomes clogged with fish."

 

**0.**

Come see  
the true flowers  
of this pained world

(The world is wrong)

 

**xiii.**

Summer passes. Hinami grows a couple of inches. Matsumae begins teaching her how to make food that pleases humans and measures her for new kimono. Kanae meets Bunko's family, which includes a child of a cadet family member of about three running around the stone garden and squealing with unfamiliar but not unwelcome glee. Shuu puts the family business accounts and connections in order, a steady stream of politicians and other families of import trickling through the estate throughout the summer.

Matsumae and Kanae hunt. Hinami prepares the bodies. Shuu, due to his position, is no longer allowed to hunt. Sometimes, he comes down to the butcher room and helps Hinami skin the flesh. He breaks open the bones to clean out the bone marrow because it's the one part of the job that Hinami cannot stomach. 

"Do you miss it?"

Shuu twists the thin pick in the knob of bone in hand, teasing out the small bits of marrow in the spongy inner bone. He hums. His hair is pinned up and back. There are no creases in his brow or tension in his eyes visible over the surgical mask. His kakugan aren't active. He looks his age like this. 

"I don't know," he says, tapping the bit of meat into the bowl at his right. "I used to feel differently. We are both very different now."

Hinami nods. She catches herself humming in response but doesn't stop herself.

Autumn comes in. The new kimono and clothes from Europe come in for Hinami, the first time that she'd had her entire wardrobe tailored. Matsumae helps her dress, and Hinami wonders if this would have been the case if Matsumae had always thought her a permanent member of the family. Kanae visibly perks up the first time he sees Hinami in one of the Italian outfits, lingering within Hinami's personal space much longer than he usually allows himself as he examines the stitching and makes happy noises in German at the fabric. Shuu actually smiles at some of the brighter designs, and that, more than anything else, makes Hinami not care about the likely atrocious cost.

Shuu begins to spend time down in the training room. He goes through moves that Hinami recognises from the books he takes down there with him. She sits on the bench at the side of the windowless, steel room and watches as Shuu whirls, slashes, and parries. Sometimes Kanae comes down, and they spar. It's nostalgic in a way that's painful, but it's a necessity. They both sleep better on those days, and it helps Shuu's stomach to a certain extent. He isn't better. He'll never be what he was before. The opportunity for that is long past.

As autumn begins to turn, Hinami catches herself, flour coating her hands and a ball of dough kneading beneath her palms, thinking of her mother. She pauses, lifting her head and looking at the pale kitchen wall. She thinks of her mother's face, the way that she would smile, prematurely deep crow's feet by her eyes. It is the last memory she has of her mother, of a smile so sincere and forceful. There was blood on her face. Her eye was dull. Her lip was split.

Hinami tilts her head back. Looks at the ceiling. The light is very bright.

She closes her eyes.

 

**xiv.**

Winter comes in. Just after New Years, Bunko sends over a formal invitation for the Tsukiyama family to accompany the Minamoto family to the Sapporo Snow Festival. It makes Shuu laugh until Hinami fears that he'll cry, which is something that Shuu does with alarming regularity when he laughs. She suspects the moments when he feels any sort of emotion are overwhelming.

"I haven't gone to Sapporo in years," he says after he gets himself back under control, accepting a handkerchief from Kanae, who delivered the invitation. "It will be nostalgic."

"Sumire-sama used enjoy going," Matsumae tells Hinami later as they prepare coffee service and cheek flesh wagashi for the two ghoul politicians who are visiting.

That explains Shuu's reaction. There are exactly two subjects that are open wounds for him: his mother and Kaneki. His mother is a constant spectre in this house. Surime was well-loved and even better respected by both ghouls and humans important to the Tsukiyama family. It's why Matsumae sometimes will dress Shuu in furisode when they have certain guests, why Shuu does not cut his hair even now that he is Tsukiyama to everyone but Hinami, Kanae, and Bunko. It is an unignorable reminder that Shuu is that well-loved and respected person's most treasured thing as well as the unmarried Tsukiyama head.

For the rest of the family, Asahi, Kamiko, and Kosei, Shuu's father, were not well-loved. They were respected, of course, although Kosei notably less. Hinami isn't exactly sure why that is, although she is certain that the reasons will be revealed to her in time. She doesn't need to concern herself. Even Shuu didn't seem particularly fond of his father back when he mentioned his death to Kaneki. The rare mention of Kosei is by mainly visiting businessmen, and it draws only the polite smile of his station from him. It is the same reaction that mentioning Asahi or Kamiko receive, and that is all Hinami needs to know.

"Who else will be going?"

Matsumae pours hot water into the cafetière. "It is a well-attended event," she says, indicating that Hinami should take the tray of wagashi. "I will provide you with a file of names."

The file is distressingly thick. Hinami stares at it on her desk that evening, feeling a sense of encroaching doom. She knows that it's not necessary that she memorise all of the contents, but she should. She doubts she'll ever get the hang of the extensive family trees that form the upper-class preoccupations of these ancient families, but she should at least know the names and faces of those who are currently alive. 

It's about eleven pages in, which takes her through the Minamoto family, that she finds the profile for Washuu Tsuneyoshi. Hinami pauses before quickly flipping through the next ten pages. The profiles of the entire Washuu family as well as several other Doves including Mado, Sasaki, and Marude are there. They're all recent pictures, which Hinami can only guess is Chie's work. 

"I will be extending an invitation to Washuu-san," Shuu says when she asks him the next day, his fingers moving over on the keyboard of his laptop. "They are very old friends of this family."

Hinami does not squint at him, but it is a very near thing. "And the Doves?"

Shuu pauses. He looks up at her from the laptop screen. Seated on the floor as he is with his hair in his face and wearing what looks like a marshmallow of a sweatshirt, he looks nothing like the head of an ancient house. Hinami wonders where he got such a ridiculous shirt. She also wonders when she started to judge Shuu's clothing choices.

"As my sister, you are allowed to extend what invitations you wish."

Hinami had expected that answer. She inclines her head. She smiles, bright and very innocent. It was the smile of the child that Shuu once knew when he was her flower man. From the slight quirk of his lips, he knows that she is not the same now. She does not lie to him, and he does not lie to her. There is no one who knows them better than they know each other.

"Thank you," she says, "Shuu-niisan."

 

**xv.**

Both Tsukiyama Shuu and Hinami are sitting in the main room of the ryokan. They smile, mirrors of picturesque sincerity. The only difference is that Tsukiyama's is close-lipped, an exquisite sadness to his eyes. Hinami's is bright and shining, like the spring sun.

"Thank you," Hinami saw with a demure, proper bow, "for accepting my invitation."

Sasaki cannot help it: he flushes. He hastens to bow back, feeling as desperately out of place as he had when he first set foot onto the Tsukiyama estate almost a year ago.

"Thank you for inviting me and my team," he says, and he prays that he won't stumble in his words or manners. "You really didn't have to."

Hinami shakes her head. It makes her hair ornament flash in the gentle lighting. It's decorated in snowdrops made out of what Sasaki highly suspects are diamonds. 

"I am very happy that you were able to come," she says, and her eyes are wide and clear and so very welcoming. "I had thought that it would be nice for you to have a vacation. Perhaps it is frivolous of me, but I know that your work is very hard."

Sasaki nods, feeling very nervous and more than a little unmoored. Mado had had to decline her invitation due to having caught the office flu, but Sasaki knows very well that his attendance was mandatory in everything but explicit order. That anyone in the Tsukiyama family should favour him with a personal invitation: it gives hope that the contract for the Quinx programme might be renewed when it comes up in September.

For Sasaki, he hadn't intended to turn down the invitation. Work has been wearing him down, and it has been quietly worrying him that, despite what was said to Tsukiyama and to the Minamoto and Ichinose families, he hasn't seen any indication that he or the rest of the Quinx are intended to be anything but CCG agents. The work they do is important, but if there is any possibility of what Sasaki is and the Quinx are helping others, shouldn't that be of equal importance? It sits like slowly growing lead in Sasaki's gut.

"That's really kind of you," he says, and he reaches up unconsciously to rub his chin as he continues with, "I've never stayed anywhere like this."

Hinami shakes her head, her clear gaze never losing focus. "It is our pleasure," she says before glancing at Tsukiyama.

Sasaki kicks himself for momentarily taking his attention off of the Tsukiyama head. He looks a little more healthy than he had the last time Sasaki saw him, although he is still so terribly pale and thin. Sasaki knows that none of the Tsukiyama family are weak, but he knows they have no defence against ghouls, let alone the ravages of very human illness. Sasaki had given his word. He promised.

As he watches, something shifts. Tsukiyama's eyes move with his smile. It's small, sweet, and very, very sad. But his eyes -

"It is."

They are warm.


End file.
